Perspectives
by klipdoctor
Summary: "There will be moments on this tour you will never forget". This is the story of one such moment seen from many different perspectives. COMPLETE.
1. Kinders

**A/N I'm posting this piece as a thank you for all the lovely reviews and PMs. I've decided, with help from a lot of people, that running away from FFnet would punish the great majority who are supportive and would make the anonymous trolls happy. Letting the trolls win isn't something I think I'd be proud of (and Molly would certainly kick my arse!). I've been working on this piece over the past few weeks and, fair warning, it's not complete. I don't know if I will complete it, but I will be posting what I have written and I will finish it if and when I am able. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Kinders**

"Kinders – with me!"

Derek Kinders knew that those words, tacked onto the end of one of the Boss's thorough reamings out, weren't going to bode well for him and, as he followed the Boss out of the ops tent at the FOB, he mused that that was probably fair. Because he _hadn't_ done his job. His job as section leader was supposed to be to ensure the section functioned smoothly, and it hadn't. He should have stopped the boys isolating Molly himself, and he should have spoken to Smurf about what he had said and done as well, at the end of the day. But he hadn't. _And_, he reflected, _it's because I'm a bit of a coward_.

He knew he should've stepped in before this. That things had gone too far. But he hadn't wanted to make himself unpopular with the boys by standing up for Dawes. It wasn't like she'd done that much to make him want to stand up for her, after all. Generally if soldiers were as mouthy as her you expected them to have something to back it up. She hadn't covered herself in glory so far. Until today.

Today she had done something that he hoped people would still be talking about in 20 years. In 50 years. Forever. Today Private Molly Dawes had done something amazing. Kinders had been to Afghanistan before. He'd been shot at and he knew people who'd been shot. He knew what it felt like to be a target. He knew it took a certain level of courage to serve here. But he had never seen an act of courage like Molly Dawes had produced today.

He knew that medics were a special breed. He had seen that on his last tour (and if he was truthful with himself he was disappointed that he hadn't remembered it and cut her some slack). He had seen plenty of medics tending to troops under fire, after all. But he had never seen a medic crawl across a minefield to get to an injured soldier. And he had never seen a medic put herself intentionally into so much danger to rescue a casualty. Particularly a casualty who had been such a dick to her. And what's more, he had never seen _anyone_ stand up to the CO like that. She had shouted him down in front of the men and that took balls. There was no doubt in his mind that Molly Dawes had a huge set of brass _cahunas_, though where she kept them, he had no idea. She was so tiny there didn't seem space for anything!

The worst thing for him was that it was blatantly clear that he had misjudged her. She really was a great medic. Young, immature - yes. But also brave as a lion. And he had not supported her. He should have, but he hadn't.

His reflections were cut off as they arrived at Captain James' tent. The Captain gestured for him to sit down on the bed which, after a small hesitation, he did. The Captain went and sat on his desk, facing him, "Do you know why I asked you to come with me, Kinders?"

The Corporal was surprised by the Captain's even tone. He had expected a bollocking straight off. "Yes, Boss," he replied tiredly, deciding not to muck around, "I haven't been a very good section leader. I should have stood up for Dawes and broken this up before it got so bad."

The Captain looked surprised, "Well, I'm glad you know what you did wrong. I'm not going to ask why you didn't do it. I imagine it was for the same reasons that I gave her a hard time as well. She doesn't make a good first impression, that's for sure. She's mouthy and she pisses you off, _but_," and here he looked straight at Kinders, "if you talk to her one to one she's not like that at all, and I would suggest that the class clown impression is down to nerves and not her actual persona. I've spoken to her a fair amount between seeing her for my blisters and the march up to the Mountain CP and I've been surprised and slightly impressed by her. As her section leader, I would have expected you to try to do the same.

"It's that fact that I am most disappointed about, Derek. You are a senior NCO now. You're not one of the boys. You are in a leadership position in the section and in the platoon. You need to start acting like that.

"You're solid in action Derek. I've no complaints about that. But you are not so good at imposing your will on personnel out of a contact situation. It's a recurring theme with NCOs who have just been promoted. Obviously you don't want to become unpopular with the men, but sometimes you need to be to get the job done.

"I'm not going to harp on about this because I screwed up with Dawes as well," Kinders could feel the surprise on his face as he looked at the Captain, and noticed a wry smile cross his face, "but I think it's fair to say we do need to bring you up the curve quickly on managing your personnel. So, I've decided that you and I will meet every day initially to discuss your interactions with the troops and to give you some guidance, and I'm also going to ask Sergeant Pierson to mentor you. Don't be upset Derek. I've done this in the past with newly promoted NCOs and it does happen pretty regularly. But obviously we're in an operational situation here and you need to come up the curve as fast as possible."

The Boss looked up, "Any questions?" Kinders shook his head. He couldn't quite believe his luck. Captain James was one of the best officers he'd ever served with, and a great leader, and he was going to take time out to mentor _him_, Derek Kinders, in leadership? What a result. And he couldn't deny that it was overdue. He had only been a Corporal for a short period of time and, if he was truthful with himself, he would admit that he did find it difficult to impose his will on the boys and actually lead them.

The Boss continued, "OK, you'd better get with the guys and make sure everyone's OK. If there are any issues, let me know. Light duties for the rest of the day. I'll let you know when we get an update from Bastion on Smurf and Dawes. Dismissed." Kinders stood, braced briefly and respectfully to attention, and left the Boss's tent, heading for his section's tent, and now determined to do his duty as section leader.

Two hours later he was happily lifting weights with Fingers. Or rather, lifting the makeshift weights made out of a broom handle and sandbags. He supposed it was OK and it did the job. It was one of the ways to combat boredom at a FOB where there literally was nothing to do except stand watch and go on patrol. The boys were spread out in the courtyard area, some reading, others just lying in the sun. They had been pretty subdued since the Captain's reaming out, but they were starting to come back to themselves now. He had noticed it as soon as he got back to their quarters tent. He had managed to roust them out and had tried to spend time with each of them individually. They were a good group and Dawes' heroics and Smurf nearly getting himself killed had caused them to think a little more about how they had behaved towards her.

Mansfield and Dangles had been particularly subdued, Dangles because he had cold shouldered her on several occasions and now felt really bad, and Mansfield because he was the one that had uttered the immortal line, "he needs a medic" causing Molly to risk her life. He had not realised at the time quite what he was suggesting she do and it was only as it unfolded that he realised that he had nearly bullied her into losing her life. He had taken both to one side and had suggested that their previous actions were now in the past, but it was how they acted from now on that mattered.

He was interrupted from his musings by Captain James leaving the Ops tent and walking across the yard. "Two section!" he called, "gather round!" Everybody immediately moved to surround him. The Captain looked interrogatively at Kinders and, on receiving a nod that all was OK, continued, "We've just had an update from Bastion. Smurf is OK. He is conscious and is expected to make a full recovery, although it _will_ take a while. He will be flown back to the UK within the next 24 hours. Dawes is on her way back and will be here within 20 minutes."

Well, that was a weight off. The Captain turned and walked away, leaving the section much more animated than at any time during the past several hours. Nude Nut turned to him, "Corp, permission to transfer Molly's stuff from the medical tent to the quarters tent?" They had talked about this earlier. Nominally she did have a bed in the quarters tent, but she had stayed in the medical tent for the first few days of the deployment. Unsurprisingly, he thought. The boys had wanted to send a message that she was one of them now, and Brains had suggested that moving her stuff in with them was a good way of showing that. Now he smiled, "Better hurry up. She'll be back soon."

Everybody joined in. Baz had happily given up his corner bed and now they hung a Union Flag and sheets from the ceiling to give Molly some privacy, swapped round the beds and brought over her stuff from the medical tent. They arrived just in time as they all heard the sound of a helicopter swooping low over the FOB. Kinders looked out of the tent entrance and saw Captain James standing facing the gates. He grinned and gestured Kinders back into the tent.

"What's up Corp?" asked Dangles. "I think the Bossman wants to have a private chat with Dawesy!" he replied, grinning in anticipation. This could be interesting. He didn't think the Boss would really ream her out; he had to be impressed with what she'd done, but she _had_ technically disobeyed his orders to go up in the winch and he supposed that she was due a bit of a bollocking.

"Ooh, she's in for it now!" Mansfield was a simple soul but he seemed to correctly summarise what the others were thinking. They all subsided back to their beds, waiting for Dawes to come into the tent. It was only about two minutes later when they all heard the sound of her boots on the sand as she moved nearer. None of them were prepared for how she looked as she entered the tent.

For starters she looked like shit. Her face was all cut up; covered in cuts and grazes, he assumed from the mine explosion. But there was something else. Her body language was different. That was it. She looked confident. She had passed her test. She had proved to herself that she could function as a soldier and as a combat medic. She knew she wasn't a waste of space any more. She had saved a life. She had done it. This was a different Molly Dawes from the one that they had barely gotten to know. Maybe this one would be less gobby? As the boys sang that she was one of the lads she stood tall and smiled at them, "Thanks you bunch of Cockwombles!"

Or maybe not!

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**A/N So I'm afraid I'm a bit of a traditionalist and I definitely prefer cockwombles to fuckmuppets. Why did they change that?!**


	2. Azizi

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Azizi**

I am not quite sure what to make of this new team that the British have sent us. Certainly their leader Captain James is a massive improvement. That Captain Hamilton that was here previously was the most arrogant little man that it has ever been my misfortune to serve alongside and that is really saying something because there are some shocking officers in our army that have only got to where they are because of the quality of their political and financial connections. Hamilton used to treat us as if we were five year olds and it's not like he had ever seen a lot of action. But James – Charles as he tells me to call him in private – is a totally different type of man. I mean, I can't imagine Captain Hamilton even telling me his first name, let alone suggesting I use it (although his men did call him Dicky behind his back!). He was too busy sucking up to his CO to do his job.

James will be the fourth and the last British officer I have to "mentor" me but it seems already as though he will be the best. For starters it seems that he has actually bothered to read his intelligence pack. He's one up on "Captain Hamilton" already! As soon as he got here he invited me to come to his quarters to talk about the political situation in the region as well as his thoughts, having read the intelligence briefing, and to get my thoughts. I nearly fell off my chair when he asked for my thoughts. No British officer has ever asked for my thoughts before. I suppose my first two officers, Captain Hughes and Captain Smith, had me when I was an inexperienced lieutenant and an inexperienced captain, respectively. But by the time Captain Hamilton was assigned here I had been leading my men for 18 months, all spent in this region, and he never once asked for my opinion.

We talked for several hours about the situation in the region and my belief that there is an active Taliban cell here, even though our intelligence suggests that they have left the area. We talked about patrol schedules and finally he asked me about my men and volunteered information on his. He asked me whether we have a combat medic (I told him proudly that yes we do; he is newly qualified) and he told me that he only has one and that his medic is very young and he is not sure about her. He told me that his Corporals have seen action before and that about a quarter of his platoon are Afghanistan veterans, but that the rest have never served in this country and are totally raw.

That became clear within days when his second section, with his female medic, got pinned down within sight of the base. Intercepts suggested that they were targeting the female. She froze and one of his soldiers opened fire on a compound, full auto. Luckily no-one was hit but it could have been very different. The Captain obviously realised that he needed to spend more time with that section. That's why he, and they, came up to the mountains with us today.

I think it's fair to say that I wasn't sure about the female. The British have sent females before, but not for a while. Captain Hughes had a female medic in his team. She was significantly more senior though; a corporal I think. I think it must be more difficult for this female. She is young. It may be her first trip away from her country. Captain James told me that she is a late replacement and that all the others have been together for over six months. That must be hard for her.

However it is difficult to get a read on her. She seems to be a good person. Sohail told me that she stopped one of the British soldiers picking a fight with him on the first day and she has befriended one of the young girls from the village. But then she doesn't seem to be a good soldier. She froze under fire.

As the British arrive at the mountain command post the other soldiers seem to be shunning her. As Captain James greets me and I take him into the compound I notice them all ignoring her. Later, as we come out to brief the Captain's section I see further evidence of it as they all deliberately look away rather than acknowledging her. I am sent off to move the kids on. I can understand why the Captain wants them away from the troop concentration and kick myself for not noticing them and acting sooner.

Afterwards I return to ask our medic Akmal about the British medic and he tells me that she knows her job well and was very professional with him. Akmal was mentored by a female British medic during his training so I know that he would not have a problem with her sex; one of the few among my men that I could say that about. As I stand talking to Akmal, and Captain James stands talking to Medic Dawes, a shot rings out.

We all rush up to the sandbagged firing position. The British are all calling to each other, trying to find out what has happened. Corporal Kinders asks whether anyone has eyes on, and Medic Dawes replies, surprising me that she is so observant.

The soldier who has been shot is the one that has caused the trouble, picking the fight with Sohail and unloading in the compound. But he is in the minefield. And he has the mine detecting equipment. What an idiot! He complains that he is bleeding and one of the men says that he needs a medic. Only a green soldier would expect a medic to go to treat someone in a minefield without detection equipment. Those of us who have seen the effects of mines close up know that you don't send anyone into a minefield without the right equipment.

But Medic Dawes surprises us. She tells Captain James that she knows her mine-clearing drill. He tells her, as I would, no fucking way! She challenges him again and then tells him that as a female she doesn't expect special treatment. She's absolutely nuts. Female or male I would never send anyone into a minefield without proper detecting equipment, but he backs down. I'm pretty surprised. I suppose it is _his_ man bleeding out down there and maybe he feels bad for misjudging Dawes. Whether she froze or not on her first contact it's absolutely clear now that she's as brave as they come.

James takes two men and the medic and moves down to the bridge. I call up some of my men to the firing position and bring out more to take positions down the track to the river to give them further cover. By the time I have got everyone positioned to my satisfaction the medic is already lying at the edge of the minefield probing around with her combat knife.

I share an incredulous look with Medic Akmal and Sergeant Gul. I have never seen such bravery. And from a woman as well. She continues to crawl forward. We are all keeping our eyes peeled for the shooter but he must have retreated. I can't think that he wouldn't take a pot shot at a female medic crawling across a minefield if he was still here. Although maybe he is transfixed by her bravery as well. No, that is not the way the Taliban think. Although it is possible that he will let her get closer to the injured soldier before he shoots her. That would cause maximum hurt and that _would_ be the way Taliban think. We must keep a close eye out.

Suddenly there is an explosion. _No! She was so close_. Akmal and I share a look. It was not a big explosion. There is a possibility that she could still be alive, although seriously injured. I silently reassure the medic that I will not send him down there. Hopefully the British will send a chopper with a winch.

I can hear Captain James hoarsely screaming at Dawes, seeking any sign of life. I feel for him; now he may have lost two soldiers. Suddenly Sergeant Gul exclaims sharply and I look up. Dawes has sat up. The cheers from the position above us suggest that she is OK. We do not have radios so I don't know what is happening. She moves towards the casualty and doesn't seem to have any issues moving. If that's the case then she is one lucky soldier. And let's face it, she is definitely a soldier and not just a woman. I have never seen anyone, man or woman, act so bravely in my life. She has just been blown up by a mine but her first thought is to treat the casualty. Amazing.

I can hear the helicopter approaching and glory be - they have sent a small one with a winch. It's good that it's a small one. Earlier in the war they sent a Chinook to extract casualties from a minefield and the downdraft from its rotors caused a mine to explode. Hopefully we will not have that problem here. Captain James is getting annoyed about something. He is shouting at the medic. As the rescue tether is lowered and the medic prepares the casualty I can see what he must have been shouting about. He didn't want the medic to go up on the winch, where she would have been exposed to sniper fire, but the medic has defied him. She really is brave. She ignores the threat from the Taliban and she ignores the threat from Captain James! Maybe she is thinking, like I have concluded, that if the Taliban were going to take a pot shot at her they would already have done so. Nevertheless it is another very courageous thing she has done. Risking her life twice in 10 minutes.

As the helicopter departs her comrades scream and shout encouragement, seemingly forgetting that only 30 minutes ago they didn't want anything to do with her. Afterwards the Captain calls another section up to use their mine detection gear to salvage the equipment left inside the minefield. The Captain is insistent, and I agree, that no equipment should be left behind for the Taliban to extract and potentially use. He sets off back to the FOB with Two Section, leaving me to co-ordinate the recovery of the equipment. Then I leave a detachment at the mountain base and we return to the FOB.

The Captain is waiting for me inside the ops tent. I confirm that the equipment has been salvaged and ask about his injured soldiers. He tells me that the male is conscious and expected to live and that the medic is battered and bruised but on her way back.

I tell him, "You must be proud of Medic Dawes, Captain."

He smiles at me sadly, and then looks around, noting the absence of anyone else, "I asked you to call me Charles, Idris. Yes I am. I was wrong about her, but I've learnt my lesson. Hopefully the men have learnt theirs."

I think they probably have.

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**A/N 1 The name Idris means "studious person" – I thought it was right for Captain Azizi.**

**A/N 2 The reference to the Chinook downdraft setting off a mine is a reference to the disaster at the Kajaki dam early in the war when British soldiers waited 6 hours for a helicopter with a winch before being sent a Chinook which tried to land, setting off a mine which resulted in one soldier receiving fatal injuries. The incident has now been made into a film. **


	3. Fingers

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Fingers**

Frankie Still, otherwise known as Fingers, reckoned that he was going to have to eat quite a lot of humble pie over the next few weeks. And he bloody deserved to have to as well. Because to put it bluntly, he had been a cast iron shit to Molly Dawes.

Frankie liked to pride himself that he was a straight up kind of guy. But he hadn't been a straight up guy with Molly Dawes. And he knew why it was as well. Frankie was nothing if not loyal to his friends. Growing up on the streets of Moss Side you needed to stand up for your mates and your family, else you got walked all over.

So when Smurf had come to them and told them that the new medic had grassed him up to the Captain because she was a bit of a slag, he had believed him. He hadn't been concerned with Dawes' side of the story. Smurf was his comrade and his mate, and Dawes was an outsider. He hadn't even considered that Dawes was now a member of his section and deserved to be treated as part of his family as well.

He hadn't thought about how it would feel for Dawes, coming into a new section the day they were travelling into a war zone. When they had met her at Brize he had thought she seemed quite good fun, but after the morning PT the first full day at Bastion and the rumours going round about how she froze in the med centre, she had fallen in his estimation. Then Smurf had dropped his bombshell about shagging her round the back of an Indian takeaway in Guildford and about how she was obviously after the Captain now, and he had believed him.

He had already made a break for freedom when Smurf had unloaded on the compound when the section were pinned down in the ditch, so he hadn't really had an idea of how out of control Smurf had been but the interpreter, Qaseem, had told him about it on the march up to the Mountain CP and he had already been feeling a bit bad about cold shouldering Dawes the other day (particularly about chucking her package on the ground – he knew how important the packages from home were and it was clear he had damaged hers). Then Dawes had volunteered to rescue Smurf and he'd realised he had totally misjudged Molly Dawes. And the worst thing was, he nearly didn't get a chance to apologise.

When the shot had wrung out and they had finally located Smurf bleeding in the minefield he hadn't been able to believe it when Mansfield had told Dawes that Smurf needed a medic. Nobody would send a medic into a minefield with no equipment. But Mansfield was a simple guy and probably hadn't quite appreciated that. But then, when she volunteered to go, he had known he'd fucked up. Smurf had implied that she was a rampant slut who didn't respect the soldiers' code, wanted to sleep her way to the top and didn't give a shit for her comrades. But here was a medic, a young girl really, who was volunteering to crawl across a minefield to save a comrade. That wasn't the behaviour of someone who didn't care for her comrades. And it wasn't the behaviour of a coward either.

When she'd faced down the Boss he had been even more awed. No-one had the guts to go against the Boss when he had his wind up. The couple of times he'd been on the wrong end of the Boss's tongue he hadn't enjoyed it much and here was Dawes shouting him down to do something that could kill her. He was surprised when the Boss backed down, but found it tough to control his admiration for Dawes as she slowly crawled across the minefield. But within that admiration was fear. She was a sitting duck to any sniper out there. He was confident that he could protect her with his Minimi, but only if they had eyes on the sniper, but the problem was they had _never_ had eyes on the sniper.

Then when the mine went off his heart was in his mouth. Here was a woman, definitely a woman and not a girl, who had risked her life to save a man who had made her life hell, and she had paid for it with her life. And he never would have the chance to apologise for helping to make her life hell. Those seconds when she was knocked out were some of the longest of his life. He couldn't see anything with all the dust from the explosion and at that range, but Baz could and told them she wasn't moving. When she'd radioed that she was OK he hadn't been able to believe his ears.

Then she'd just got on with the job as if nothing had happened. There was no sign that she'd just been blown up by a mine. He was in awe. They'd all been in awe. Who'd be a combat medic?

Then she'd defied the Old Man for the second time and he knew she'd get it in the neck for that. As she argued with the Boss about going up in the winch Frankie knew he'd really underestimated Molly Dawes and that when he saw her again he'd have to apologise, because that woman had two great big brass balls. And she was totally prepared to defy authority and risk her own life in order to save the life of her patient.

As the helicopter flew off with their two comrades he could only thank God that he'd have the opportunity to correct his mistake. When they got back to the FOB the Boss had really laid into them about isolating her for doing her job, and he was right. Molly Dawes had proved that she was a better person and a better soldier than them. Frankie knew he had a lot of humble pie to eat. It was a good thing that they would be together for the whole tour. Hopefully he could grab Dawesy and apologise to her when she got back. He certainly owed her that much. Then he would need to concentrate on getting to know her, because anybody who could act like that was someone that had the potential to be a great friend.

When the skipper called them all together later at the FOB and told them that Smurf was conscious and would be OK and that Dawesy was on her way back, they'd all cheered. Then they'd gone and picked her stuff up and transferred it to their quarters. Later that afternoon when the helicopter bringing her back to the FOB landed, he and the others waited for her in the quarters tent. They hadn't done well by Dawesy so far this tour, but that ended here. She'd proved that she was worthy of serving with them. Now they had to prove that they were worthy of serving with her. And Frankie Still knew he had quite a lot of work to do to prove that.

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**A/N For those wondering, I have 9 chapters written. 4 more could potentially be added.**


	4. Badrai

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Badrai**

I think that this has worked out even better than I expected. I decided to go up to the mountains today only to get a look at the new English troops to see if I could spot any potential weaknesses that I might exploit. I would have been happy sitting on the other side of the river valley and just observing, but something altogether better fell into my lap. When I instructed Bashira to sit around by the stream and see if she could attract attention, I was hoping that maybe the female medic that the English have brought with them would be drawn away from her compatriots and I could kidnap or kill her. What better way to show that females make poor soldiers and should be left in the house?

I have heard from my contacts that the female medic seems to have developed a soft spot for Bashira. Apparently they talked yesterday. It would have been very strange for Bashira to see a female soldier. Even I have not seen many of them. It is disgusting enough that the English and Americans lead _our_ women astray by trying to send them to school and preaching equality of the sexes. But it is even worse that they allow their women to come with them into war zones. The females that I have seen serving the American and British forces dress and behave just like the men, showing off their figures, and they talk to you as equals – disgusting. Some of our informers, who have been inside the British and American camps, have reported that when they are out of uniform they wear very few clothes, flaunting their bodies in front of good God-fearing men. Luckily I have never had to experience this.

However the female stayed with the main group up at their command post above the river. Azizi was up there with his men and the British. Azizi is a worry to me. He is known as a good officer in this region and it is bad that he is working in this area now. It is more difficult to find potential turncoats in the ANA ranks when the men are treated well and led well. We may very well have to do something to unseat Captain Azizi if we can.

Despite the female staying with the others, one of the soldiers, a young Englishman, followed Bashira down to the river bed. Bashira then ran off as I had instructed. She does not know that she is helping me. She just thinks she is playing an innocent game. Let her think that.

I know she was interested by the British medic. I saw them talking when she was with the other children. On one hand I would not have wanted that relationship to go any further and have the female fill Bashira's head with her stupid ambitions for the future, but on the other hand such a friendship could have provided useful intelligence for us. I must consider this. It does not matter now because the female is likely either dead or grievously wounded.

The young Englishman was an idiot. I can't believe that he wandered off on his own, unsupported. Don't they teach them anything at their soldier schools? He deserved to die. I only hesitated because I thought I would be doing the English commander a favour if I killed such an idiot. Maybe he could do more damage if he was left alive for longer. I started to move from where I was observing and took position at the end of the mined area so that I could see him walk through the safe area. I hefted my gun as I decided that I would kill him. The only thing that saved his life (if only for a short while) was that he was even more of an idiot than I thought possible. Did he not know of the minefield?

He walked right across it and turned up the path. He caught me totally by surprise. The good thing for me was that he was totally shocked as well and, not having been in action, was significantly slower than my war-honed reactions. I took a snapshot at him and he fell backwards. Immediately I moved away from the area. There is pretty reasonable cover in that area with lots of gorse and the occasional bush, so I knew I would have a good chance of getting away.

There was no firing after me so I got the impression I had managed to get cleanly away. I paused in my retreat for a few minutes to get my breath back and then decided to take another look. I was now about 100 metres above the place where I had shot the Englishman, and about 200 metres further down the valley. It was only about another 50 metres to the top of the hill and I should easily be able to retreat should I need to.

As I focused on where the Englishman was lying I was surprised to see the female medic crawling across the middle of the minefield. Why was she doing this when the English soldiers always carried explosive-detecting equipment? I did not know. Obviously they didn't have any with them because the female medic was risking her life to get to the idiot. This female obviously had a strong heart to risk her life in such a way to get to her comrade. It was very brave. Unfortunately for her it was to be unsuccessful as the explosion to her left blew her into the air and laid her almost at the feet of the Englishman.

This was perfect. I could not believe what a successful afternoon it had been. It was as if God had willed it. I had killed two birds with one stone. First the young Englishman and then the female medic. She may not be dead but she must certainly be grievously wounded. Knowing that the area would shortly be crawling with English helicopters, I beat a hasty retreat, but not before taking one last opportunity to look at the two bodies lying almost side by side. As I put more distance between myself and the enemy soldiers I couldn't help but feel sorry for the young female who had shown such courage but had ultimately lost her life. For the young man I had no such feelings. He was an idiot and deserved to die.

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**A/N1 Yes, I know Smurf is Welsh, but many foreigners (and in fact some English people, with considerably less excuse to) seem to think that English and British are interchangeable as words!**

**A/N2 So maybe it's a bit contrived to have Badrai as the shooter but there's no reason why he couldn't be…and you've got to admit – it makes for a much better story!**


	5. Brains

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Brains**

Active duty is not really what I had expected. I don't know what I _had_ expected, really. It just wasn't this. For starters it's sooo hot. Like really bloody hot. It saps all your energy. The sun beats down on you all day. Going out with all your gear on is like torture. And don't even get me on the subject of dust – urgh! On top of that there's so little to do. When you're out on patrol it's fine. You have to concentrate. But when you're in the FOB there's nothing to do and everyone is getting a bit tetchy.

On top of that there's the situation with Smurf and Dawes. I know what Smurf's saying about her and it doesn't sound right to me. I don't really know her that well, but I did get the chance to talk to her briefly at Brize before we left and she isn't half as gobby one to one as she is in public. You can see that with how she is round the base as well. She's quite quiet actually. She tends to only speak when spoken to.

It's a difficult one. I can understand that Smurf is pissed off that she grassed him up to the Bossman but that _is_ kind of her job at the end of the day. His contention that she's a slag that wants to sleep her way to the top and who doesn't respect her comrades just seems wrong to me. I know I should be doing something about it, giving her some support, but it's really difficult. Fitting in with the boys has been so tough and it's taken a while. They look at the fact that I went to college and did A-levels and take the piss mercilessly. They've only started to be nice to me in the last few months.

I don't really know what to do. If what we are doing wasn't right I would have expected Kinders to step in but he hasn't done anything. Hasn't once stood up for Dawes. When Fingers threw her package on the floor the other day I thought that was a bit beyond the pale. We rely on our letters from home so much and he must have damaged hers. If that happened to something from my mum I would be gutted. The boys are supporting Smurf, particularly Dangles and Fingers. They're very much the core of our group. I don't know about Mansfield. He tends to follow the others as well but he's not really a thinker. I know that Nude-Nut is a bit unsure. He also talked to Molly. He was sat next to her on the plane. We are going along with the others for now, but without doing anything actively offensive to her.

Dangles is totally the opposite. When we had the briefing to go up to the Mountain CP yesterday he totally blanked her and now he has just thrown a water bottle at her feet, refusing to even meet her eyes. I'm surprised again that neither Kinders nor the Bossman have done anything about it. I'm on watch, scouring the countryside, so I can't see anyone's expressions but I hear the sad little sigh from Molly. This is coming to a head and I will need to take a view soon. My conscience is telling me that I'm acting pretty badly in this, and I don't like that feeling.

Smurf stops next to Dawes to tell her that her new little friend is a dicker. Smurf is so anti-Afghan I'm not surprised he thinks everyone is out to get him! I can understand why Dawes was a bit worried about him. She tells him, in her own inimitable way, that he's wrong and then heads off to set up a med centre with the ANA medic, as instructed.

Later, I'm just chatting with Baz when it all goes off. We hear a shot and Nude-Nut storms up the hill to the CP shouting "Man Down! Man Down!" It's Smurf. It turns out that the crazy idiot's gone off on his own – what a complete dick! On top of that he's wandered into the minefield. The Boss clearly told us about the minefield so what _was_ he thinking? On top of that, Smurf's taken the Vallon with him. How are we supposed to get to him without that? Mansfield says something stupid like "he needs a medic!" and I'm trying not to sneer. What idiot would go into a minefield without mine detection gear? Honestly, Mansfield is so thick sometimes.

At Catterick they taught us to stay the hell away from minefields. Obviously Dawes never got that memo. Maybe they teach different things in Medic training because the stupid moo volunteers to go and get him. The Boss tells her "no way" but Dawesy forces the issue. I feel like telling her that she doesn't have to convince us she's brave. Offering once was more than enough. But she shouts the Boss down and tells him she doesn't want special treatment because she's a woman. Bloody Hell.

I have never seen anything like that before. I mean, I know I'm only 20 years old, but I don't reckon I'll ever see courage like that again. At least I hope I won't. I hope Smurf survives and I hope he gets to eat humble pie because there's no fucking way that Molly Dawes is a cowardly slapper who doesn't care about her comrades. Molly Dawes is willing to risk her life for her comrades. Even one as idiotic as Smurf who's spent the past day trying to fuck her up as much as he can.

The Boss makes a quick decision and details me and Dangles to head down and support Dawesy. We run down the hill and across the bridge and then the Boss details Dangles, me and him to take up defensive positions there. I wonder what Dangles thinks? He's been one of the most unkind to Dawesy but now he gets a front row seat to see her prove she's not what Smurf said she was.

As we take our positions I can hear her calling to Smurf. It sounds a bit incongruous with her high pitched voice calling out to him. But what she's doing is amazing. She shrugs off her pack and, as the skipper calls in the nine liner, she lies down on the sand. I shouldn't be watching her. I should be watching the area above and around her to protect her, but my eyes can't help but be drawn to this tiny girl, younger than me, crawling across a minefield. If I ever write a book about my experiences then this incident will have pride of place.

She's made about 15 feet and the Boss asks her by radio if she's OK. She replies that Smurf has gone quiet. This doesn't bode well. I yell at Smurf to "talk to her you tit!" and the others all call encouragement as well. She's still moving forward slowly, and I hear the Captain ask her again if everything's OK when it happens. There's this God-almighty bang. I skooch down next to the bridge, trying to cover myself, but I already know what it must be. Straightaway my eyes are pulled back to Dawes and there's a rising column of dust. I can't see a thing but the cause is obvious – she's set off a mine. The Boss is calling to her, shouting to her. But how could she have survived that? Kinders calls to the rescue chopper to wait out.

I still stare at the smoke, willing her to be OK, but in my heart I know there's little chance. From what I have seen today Dawes, Molly, is a very special person and she could have been my friend. But I didn't give that friendship a chance to develop because I just followed Smurf and didn't give her a chance to explain herself. I know that, if she is dead or dying, her last hours were painful for her because we all made them painful. Not one of us stood up for her. Yet she proved that she would stand up for any of us. I feel terrible.

I see movement ahead. She is moving. She is alive. Then I hear her voice on the net. Words I can't comprehend – "I'm alright. I'm alright, sir!" How could she be alright? Not that I'm looking a gift horse in the mouth. I'm delighted. I cheer. Then she tells us "I can't believe I've still got my legs". That was a bit close to the bone and I can't help but feel mine as well. Then she moves towards Smurf. I can't see a thing and I suddenly realise I'm supposed to be protecting her, not watching her. I get back to my job, but it's difficult to keep my admiration for this amazing person under control.

Then it gets more difficult. The rescue helicopter has arrived and is hovering overhead. Dawesy tells the Boss that she needs to go up with Smurf. The Boss tells her vehemently "No". Actually he says a lot more than that, but that's the gist of it! Dawesy's not having it though. She contests that the tourniquet's not working and she has to go up with him otherwise he'll bleed out. Once again she is willing to put his life ahead of hers. There could be a sniper in the area and she'll be an easy target, but she feels it's her duty to go. The Boss tells her again and again "No" but we both knew what she was going to do as soon as she first contradicted him!

The heli is really noisy overhead and I'm sure she'll plead that she can't hear him. He might even let her off with that excuse. As expected she goes up in the winch. I'm encouraging her, hoping that no-one shoots at her. "Go on Mol! Yes Molly! _Yes Molly!_" and then she's up and safe and the heli flies off. The boys are all catcalling and applauding, seemingly forgetting that less than half an hour ago this woman was persona non grata in our section. The Boss berates us, telling us that she put her life in danger by disobeying.

Well, yeah?! Of course - that's the point. She put her life in danger (twice) for one of us. It's clear that she would put her life in danger to save any of us. That is a humbling thought.

When we get back to the FOB the Boss has unkind words for us. And we deserve them as well. I have never been as disappointed in myself as I am for not standing up for Molly. I vow to myself to do better and to make it up to her. And never to make that mistake again.

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**A/N 1 A Nine liner is shorthand for a Medevac request. It consists of nine lines of information (1. Location, 2. Radio frequency and call sign, 3. Number of patients by condition, 4. Special equ't needed, 5. Mobility of patients, 6. Security at pick up site (LZ), 7. Method of marking LZ, 8. Patient nationality, 9. Description of terrain/obstacles). He says it right but it's actually incorrect in the Post Production script.**


	6. Mansfield Mike

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Mansfield Mike**

Michael Cheam knew that he wasn't one of life's geniuses, but even by his standards he reckoned he'd screwed up massively this time. He didn't know what it was with him, but sometimes the words just flowed out of his mouth and whatever happened he just couldn't stop them. His Mum often described it as "word vomit" and he thought that was a pretty good description.

He knew Smurf had had a problem with the new medic but he didn't really see anything wrong with her. In fact she seemed to say almost as many stupid things as him, which was very welcome since it made her an equal target of the Captain's sarcastic come-backs, and he was pretty happy for that. And some of what she said was really funny as well. The "lolly pop men with guns" comment was one of the highlights in his opinion!

Smurf reckoned she'd grassed him up to the Boss but he wasn't sure, and even if she did there might very well be a reason for it. Mike, or Mansfield as all the boys called him despite the fact that he kept telling them he was from Derby, tried not to get involved in these sort of things. Having been bullied a bit at school for appearing to be a bit slow (even though he thought he was steady) he firmly believed in judging people on the way they behaved to you, and Miss Molly Dawes had been perfectly reasonable towards him. So for the time being he had opted to be perfectly reasonable towards her until he got the chance to get to know her better.

Plus the fact that he was not blind and Miss Molly Dawes filled out her uniform pretty damn nicely, thank you very much. She was a pretty reasonable package altogether, he thought. It was a shame it looked like Smurf had got there first. Although, to be fair, from the looks of things he wasn't keen to go for a re-run! Unfortunately there was no way she'd look twice at Michael Cheam now, he thought. Not after he'd just appeared to bully her to risk her life to cross a minefield.

He hadn't realised what he was doing at the time. All he was thinking of was that his mate needed help. So he suggested that the medic go and help him. He hadn't quite understood that to go and help him meant she'd have to crawl across the minefield on her belly.

_She_ obviously had because she'd told the Boss that she knew her mine clearing drills. He hadn't really understood what she was on about until he clocked the force of the Boss's refusal. After that it hadn't really mattered. She had faced down the Boss and then he'd known that what Smurf said about her was bullshit because anybody that could argue with the Boss to get permission to cross a minefield to rescue a guy who had been bad-mouthing her was good people in his view.

And seeing her crawl across the minefield on her belly was quite a thing. Mike had just been willing her to make it. Not to set off a mine and not to get shot. But then she set off a mine. As the Captain's despairing cries came across the radio he had only been able to stare at the rising plume of dust from where she had been. He tried to focus on her through his sniperscope but the shear amount of dust impacted his ability to see her. Baz had eyes on though and reported that she wasn't moving. He wasn't sure if he could cope. He had goaded someone into crossing a minefield and they had died. _He had effectively killed her._

That realisation had been setting in when suddenly he saw movement. He focused again, only to hear her radio that she was OK. _She was OK_. He couldn't describe the relief he felt at that moment. He focused back to the job in hand of making sure she was protected as she did her job. He was vaguely aware of her telling the Captain that the heli couldn't land, and then arguing with him about going up on the winch. He knew as soon as she disagreed with the Captain, and the reason that she gave, that she would disobey him – that was just who she was.

The others thought Mike was slow, and he knew he didn't always pick up on things quickly, wasn't that mentally flexible and often said some really stupid things, but one thing he felt he was a good judge of, was people, and Molly Dawes had proved today that she would always do her best for her comrades, even at the risk of her own life. Which made him feel even worse about what he'd said to her. He prayed that she'd be OK so that he'd have a chance to make it up to her.

As expected Molly had disobeyed the Captain and as she rose towards the chopper he was silently cheering for her to make it. As she reached the chopper, passed Smurf over and pulled her legs inside, the chopper started accelerating towards them and, as it flew over, he and the other members jumped up and cheered her. He was unable to keep the admiration and excitement out of his voice as they flew off. Even the Captain's anger, though it shut them up, didn't deflate them.

Later, back at the FOB, the Captain read them the riot act, as he should have done, Mike thought. While he didn't think he had been guilty of isolating Dawes, he certainly hadn't stood up for her and he felt pretty lousy about that. In fact he felt pretty lousy about all of it until Kinders took him to one side and told him that what's in the past is in the past, and that it was how he acted in future that was important. He reckoned that Kinders was right.

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**A/N I'm very much hoping that the Guest reviewer "LB" for chapter 5 is the same reviewer who wrote the detailed and very helpful review for RNT chapter 3. If so, thanks very much for that. I'm going to plead ignorance for some of it (CVO – thought that only applied for fatalities), and artistic licence for some! (I needed CJ to go to bat for the family to make Marge like him). I certainly did NOT want to make the Army appear uncaring. If you spot other areas where I am wrong, I'd be very grateful for any feedback of that sort – always learning! In the PP script "9 liner" changes into "9. lino".**

**For the anonymous guest reviewer who asked if I had a military background – far from it. I just try to explain military and other terms so that other readers can understand them as well.**

**For the anonymous guest reviewer who thinks I'm trying to bash TG. That's not the case. I'd love to engage with you, and explain why it's not but you need to get an account and PM me.**


	7. Qaseem

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Qaseem**

Qaseem Ali Sakhi, known to the British soldiers who he served with only as _Qaseem_, regarded the young British medic with interest. The young woman, girl really, couldn't have been older than his darling Anoosha would have been had she lived, just approaching 20 years old, and she was just as warm and interested as his precious daughter had been. Although he did wonder whether Anoosha still would have had the same level of interest and empathy eight more years into the war that had torn their country apart? He hoped she would have done, but he didn't know.

The British medic had had a difficult introduction to life in Afghanistan, he thought. And not all of it had been down to the Taliban. Certainly _they_ had not made it easy for her, targeting her on only her second patrol, and he had seen that she had been scared then and almost frozen until the man, Smurf, had stood up and unloaded his entire magazine into the nearby compound. It had been lucky that it hadn't been inhabited otherwise there likely would have been more civilian casualties to add to the terrible toll of this seemingly unending war. He had discussed the action with one of the machine gunners on the march up to the mountains today. Fingers he had said his nickname was. They all had strange names this group, but at least he wouldn't forget them! The younger man had already pulled back to the FOB by that time but was surprised to hear that Smurf had been so out of control.

Smurf certainly hadn't impressed him. He didn't hide his hostility to Afghans and he wondered why the British would bring someone as clearly out of control as him into a situation like this. Smurf had tried to pick a fight with the soldier called Sohail and he seemed to find the idea of Afghans going about their daily business offensive – at least Qaseem assumed that was why he spat when they walked close to him. His behaviour so far had certainly ensured that Qaseem never wanted to visit Wales, if his compatriots were anything like him. He supposed that there were racists on both sides, but serving with one as outwardly racist as him was certainly likely to be difficult. Luckily he had not come across that sort of behaviour too often during the time he had worked with the British. He hoped Smurf's attitude improved over time.

Thankfully they had all escaped without any casualties and the young British soldiers had celebrated like they had just won an amazing victory, not run away from a contact with probably one Taliban! Each to his own, he supposed. But today the atmosphere seemed totally different, and it was obvious that there was something against the female medic. He wondered what she had done? His interactions with her thus far had been fine. She seemed to be respectful and professional and it was difficult to find anything negative to say about her, yet her section obviously had.

He had heard her talking to her Captain on the march up to the mountains (she was just behind him) and it seemed that she had said something about the man, Smurf, to Captain James. He could not fault her for that as the man was clearly a disaster waiting to happen, so he wondered why there was a problem. He had not understood some of what they were saying. What was "sending to Coventry"? It sounded particularly unpleasant! He did not know where Coventry was but it sounded quite disagreeable. But the Captain had said that he was aware of the problem, which was good.

He had served with many British teams over the past few years, and had worked with many ANA. However he was hopeful about this deployment. Captain James seemed like a competent officer and Captain Azizi was liked and respected by his men. He hoped that this would be a successful deployment. God knows he had been on enough that hadn't worked out. But the British Captain seemed focused and professional.

Now here they were at the mountain command post and the young female medic was trying to talk with the little girl. She had brought pens to give to her and was trying to communicate. He liked working with the British. For the most part they were good people. He had worked with many of them that wanted to communicate with the locals over the years. This young British medic was like them. He hoped she wouldn't live to regret it. Or the girl. What was interesting was that she wasn't shy of asking for his help. She could be a fantastic example for the young girl Bashira – God knows that there were few enough good female role models out here.

But her offer that the young girl could be her surrogate sister even took _him_ by surprise. He stared at her, stunned. He still found it amazing that after more than 10 years of this terrible war people could act in such a way. She was genuine, but naïve. He hoped that it did not end up hurting her. She seemed unaware of the danger that a friendship between the two could put either her or Bashira in. He hoped it would work for both of them though. He was acutely conscious that without people like her being prepared to reach out, his country could never recover. As the little girl wandered back to her friends he watched the woman with interest.

Some of them were still shunning her, although he fancied he could see a split in the section now. The Welshman and his two friends, the radioman and the machine gunner seemed to have been the ringleaders, although the machine gunner seemed less certain and he wondered if the discussion that they had had on the march up had helped. The others seemed unsure. The black man, the other machine gunner, the blond and the big red-haired man. They had not been overtly hostile but they had not helped either. He remained surprised that the NCO had not stepped in.

Later, after the helicopter left he reflected on what he had seen. Now they were all jumping for joy, applauding her, conveniently forgetting that earlier they had been shunning her. He wondered how she would react to that. He knew that she had tried to hide it but he had seen the pain in her expressive green eyes. He was surprised that her officer or the section NCO hadn't stepped in. They should have.

He decided that if no-one else would support her then he would. She seemed interested in the people around her. Interested in his language and in his culture. People like that should be applauded and supported. He vowed to help her from now on, this Molly Dawes. He hoped that her comrades would support her as well. They should have learnt their lesson. Finally. But the medic was young. Maybe she needed a different perspective. He would sound her out and see if he could help.

She was definitely worth it. He could not believe the bravery she had shown. To crawl across a minefield for a man who had treated her so badly. To be injured but still to go on with her job. This one was special. The idiot Taliban who believed that women should be subservient should see women like her. Young – yes, ignorant – yes, uneducated – maybe. But still respectful, brave and courageous. This Molly Dawes would go far, he was sure. If she didn't kill herself first. He would try to make sure she didn't. He owed it to the memory of his darling Anoosha to make sure she didn't.

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**A/N 1 Afghan names are quite complex so I've had a crack in this chapter and previous ones. Apparently, most Afghans do not have surnames unless they have contact with the Western World. Then they may adopt a surname. First names, particularly for males, are often compound double names so I have assumed that Qaseem is actually Qaseem Ali and that in familiar usage the "Ali" is dropped. I have just plucked Qaseem's surname out of a paper I was reading on Afghan names! The name of his daughter – Anoosha – means "Delighted" and has a Dari/Persian root. For your information, Qaseem has an Arabic root and means "Distributor".**


	8. Dangles

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Dangleberries**

Kinders says I should look on this as a learning experience. He also says that the past is history and it's about how we behave from now on that's important. I wish I could believe that. Because the truth is, I've really fucked up this time. I've been a bully and that's not how my mum brought me up. When I look back at how I've behaved it's hard to believe that I could be like that. Particularly bearing in mind what was done to me in the past.

When I was young it was always difficult. I was always the smallest boy in the class and I got picked on for that and it was really tough. And it wasn't exactly like it was within my control. As I got older I built up a group of friends and it became OK. It happened less, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. Luckily I had that growth spurt in my late teens. When I joined the army it was difficult at first but when I got posted to this section it all came together. For the first time I felt part of something and I had some proper mates and that was great.

When Dawes joined the section I thought she seemed OK. She was a friend of Smurf and he was one of my good mates and I thought I'd give her a chance to settle in. She seemed to be pretty good fun and I reckoned it must be tough for her. But then the other day Smurf told me she'd grassed on him and no-one grasses on one of my mates. Mates are important and she broke the code. I was determined that she would suffer for it and I set out to make that happen.

But now I think about it, did she actually break the code? She is the medic after all and it's her job to look out for the physical and emotional well-being of the team. The more I think about it, and I've thought about it quite a lot this afternoon, Smurf _was_ acting strangely. Maybe she was right to tell the Boss about it. And if she was right then my behaviour to her has been well out of order.

When the Boss spoke to us when we got back to the FOB this afternoon he was scary quiet. We all knew a bollocking was coming, so when he asked, "Did any of you listen when I told you that you needed to look out for the other members of your section?" we were all surprised and told him we had.

Way wrong answer! "Did you really?" the Boss asked quietly, "because from where I'm standing only one member of this section looked out for everyone, and SHE'S NOT HERE NOW!" I sort of understood what he was saying but then he decided to spell it out! "You fuckwits isolated Dawes for doing her job. YOU ISOLATED HER! I have never been so disappointed in you as I am today. She came to me with a concern and, based on what happened today, she was right! I don't know what Smurf said to you, but if he had a problem with her it was up to him to deal with it. You had no business getting involved and you CERTAINLY had no business in behaving as you did. You all need to have a good look at yourselves and decide whether you're kids or soldiers, because from where I'm standing you're well named as under-fives! You need to fucking grow up. Kinders – with me!"

And he was right. I'd acted like a five year old. I hadn't asked Dawes for her side of the story. I'd just believed Smurf and then started picking on her. What kind of a man am I? Am I one even? Particularly bearing in mind what happened in my childhood. I was picked on for being different and now I'd picked on Dawes for being different as well. Her job isn't my job – as she proved this afternoon. If it was my job to crawl across minefields to save people's lives I don't think I'd still be doing my job!

I've heard more experienced soldiers say that medics are a different breed but I didn't understand it until today. When she volunteered to crawl across that minefield with no detecting equipment, my eyes nearly bugged out. And it became clear when she shouted the Boss down that I'd fucked up. Smurf had implied she didn't give a shit about anyone else, but it was clear she did. Here was a woman who was willing to crawl across a minefield to save a fellow soldier, and then to be winched up with him to save his life again even though she was at risk of sniper fire. I'd misjudged her. And I'd done it because of Smurf.

As I crouched down by that riverbed this afternoon, I was in touching distance of the minefield. I was focused outward, trying to protect my fellow soldier who was risking her life, but I couldn't help but think about how I had behaved towards her. She was new to our group. She had tried her best to fit in and I had spent the past two days throwing that back in her face. I was ashamed.

Kinders asked me whether I've learnt anything from this and I have. Truth be told I've learnt several important lessons from this. Never get involved in your mates' arguments if you don't know all of what's happening - they're their arguments and I should have stayed out of it. Never be arsey with someone unless you have heard them behave badly – Smurf said all sorts of things about Molly that weren't true but I just swallowed them down hook line and sinker without thinking to check on them. Medics are a different breed and deserve our respect – I will never disrespect a medic again after what I've seen today. Molly Dawes is good people – I'll never forget that - now.

Now I just have to go and apologise to her and convince her I've learnt my lessons.


	9. Smurf

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Smurf**

Molly fucking Dawes. The bloody woman was at it again. Coddling the little Afghan girl. Handing out pens, talking to her as if she was a normal kid. Why couldn't she see that the little bitch was a dicker? She was going to be reporting to the Taliban on everything she saw. All of them were. Probably the Afghan soldiers were. Maybe the interpreter as well. Although the Captain had told them he was OK, and he should know. Why couldn't Dawes understand that once again he was right and she was wrong? She was so bloody naïve, the stupid cow. She was just getting everything wrong.

She had grassed him up._ HIM?_ The best soldier in the platoon. To the Bossman. And she couldn't even do her own fucking job. She froze in that ditch and he saved her and she still grassed him up. He couldn't believe it when, instead of congratulating him for getting Molly out of there, the Boss had said that he was concerned for his state of mind, and he knew the Medic was too. Then it all made sense. The Boss's visit to the med tent. She had fucking grassed him up to excuse her crappy performance. What a bitch.

She needed to learn not to grass up your mates and he had set out to teach her. He had made sure that everyone knew she was a complete slut, sleeping her way to the top and not caring who she stabbed in the back. The boys, particularly Fingers and Dangles, had been all over her, making sure she knew that her behaviour was unacceptable. Blanking her out. He had had a bad few moments when he went into the med tent yesterday and found her in tears. She had really expressive green eyes and the pain he saw in them seemed to cut right through him, but she had denied she'd done anything wrong and he knew she hadn't learnt her lesson yet so he had resolved to keep on teaching her.

The boys were still giving her the cold shoulder and Dangles had purposely thrown her water on the floor. The Boss had just told him to go and dig the latrine (and wasn't that a job he'd never have had before Dawes grassed him up?) and he stopped by Molly to have one more try to get her to understand that by being so chummy with the Afghans she was endangering all of them. Surprise, surprise she wasn't having any of it. Stubborn fucking cow.

As he stood here now on sentry duty with Nude Nut, it was still going around in his head. He couldn't understand firstly, how she could grass him up? He had tried to be a good mate to her, help her settle in and she had repaid him with this. And secondly, how could she not understand that Afghans couldn't be trusted? She was endangering herself and all of them. Even the Captain was in on it with his "hearts and minds" but they'd all see. He knew better. Look what happened to Geraint. He was surprised the Bossman couldn't see that.

Something caught his eye as he looked around. A flash of red. As he looked down to the river there was that bloody little kid. What was she up to? She was sitting by the bridge like she was sunbathing. She looked up. She was definitely up to something. Almost involuntarily his legs had taken him a bit down the path away from Nude Nut, and now he asked, not conscious of the fact that he was speaking out loud, "What are you up to?" The little dicker had seen him and started to head off. Definitely a sign of a guilty conscience in his view. He'd better find out what she was up to.

He walked down the path, senses alert for a possible ambush, and across the bridge. The girl had run off around an area but if he cut across that area he could probably catch her up. He set off across it and as he reached the end some sort of sixth sense made him look around. About 50 metres away there was a Taliban, with a gun. He fumbled with his rifle, trying to pull it up, but the Taliban was faster and there was the sound of a shot. A split second later he felt a painful punch in his thigh and then searing pain. He staggered back and fell heavily against a rock.

Time seemed to slow down, but also to speed up as well. He had been shot! The pain was overwhelming and he couldn't quite track. He tried to put his hands down there to control the bleeding but the blood was pouring out of him. Suddenly he heard Captain James over the radio asking what had happened. He told him, "I've been shot! I'm pumping blood!" The Captain said something else but he couldn't really understand what was happening. He re-iterated his problem. The pain was too much. He thought he was bleeding to death. He told him, "I'm pissing blood! I can't stop it!" The Captain would know what to do. He would send Molly and everything would be OK.

But it would be a while 'til Molly got there. He needed to do something otherwise he could bleed to death. He pulled the tourniquet out of his pocket. It took something like a minute to do that. He just wasn't tracking. He fumbled with putting it on. It was always so easy in their casualty drills. But not this time. He couldn't get any grip to tighten it. The wound was too high. Where was Molly? He needed her now. He shouted for her. "Molly! Molly!"

Eventually after what seemed like hours, he heard her. As if from miles away. "I'm comin' Smurf."

He told her, "It's pissing out of me!" The pain was getting to him and he wasn't tracking. It was time for the morphine he reckoned.

She was speaking to him again, telling him to stay calm, asking where he was hit. He thought abstractly about her voice. No one butchered the English language like her… It took a Welshman to speak proper English.

She was taking ages. Why was it taking so long? He couldn't really think but suddenly he had a thought. The minefield. Had he wandered into the minefield? Was Molly crossing the minefield to get to him? Nah, she was just taking her time to piss him off. Stupid cow. Didn't she realise he was bleeding to death?

Suddenly there was an almighty explosion behind him. Was it a mine? Had Molly set off a mine? His vision was tunnelling but he was aware of a body lying next to him. Had Molly really risked her life to save his? If she was dead then he was definitely dead too. He could hear the Bossman calling for her over the radio, but there was no answer. She was dead. Oh well, he could join her soon and maybe they could go together. It would be nice to have company.

Then he heard her voice. Had she come to take him? No, it sounded real. "I'm OK. I'm OK sir." She was alive. She bounded over to him. He tried to speak to her. To thank her for coming. For crossing a minefield for him. But words didn't come to him. He heard her speaking. "Come on Smurf…Please don't die on me you bell-end!" That was so Molly. No bedside manner at all!

She lifted his leg and agony shot through him. He groaned and tried again to talk to her but he couldn't get anything out. The voices were starting to merge together, but he could hear Molly's reassuring voice right next to him, hear her hands working although he couldn't really feel them. The Boss was shouting about something over the radio, but it didn't matter to him. Here he was, just enjoying relaxing in the sun.

There was this loud noise overhead. Maybe it was the helicopter. Molly was writing on his face. That was weird. Boys didn't wear makeup…why was she doing that? The Boss was still yelling. Suddenly he heard Molly say, "I can't hear a thing can you?" It was clear against the background noise. Maybe it was the last thing he would hear. He asked her, "Am I gonna die?" not expecting her to understand this either, but she seemed to. She told him, "No. If you die, they're all gonna think it's my fault so that ain't gonna happen, alright wanker?" Mols was funny. She still reckoned he was gonna make it.

The noise was really bad now. Molly was tying something around him. She was taking care of him. Maybe he'd been wrong about her. He was starting to feel weightless, like he was flying through the air. It felt relaxing. With that happy thought, and the memory of her beautiful green eyes staring at him, he drifted off into unconsciousness.

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**A/N For those wanting me to write about Molly in this fic, I'll refer you to my One-shot ****_Facing the Music_**** from last October. I don't think I can probably write Molly's take on her experiences better than in there so you should probably look on that as a companion piece to this.**


	10. Nude Nut

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

**This chapter was co-written with jcjonesy. Thanks for all her ideas and her enthusiasm. All mistakes are my own.**

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**Nude-Nut**

Adio Lawrence was a quiet, unassuming young man. He prided himself on his loyalty to both his family and friends, who were equally important to him. He'd experienced a tough childhood because of the colour of his skin, growing up in a predominantly white community in a town on the outskirts of Kent. At school he never really fitted in and had been bullied, but had never retaliated, determined he wouldn't lower himself to their level. Instead he grew further into himself.

Growing up he spent most of his time at home rather than out with friends. He loved the comfort of his loving, close-knit family, with his Mum and Dad, two sisters and Grandmother. There was nothing he looked forward to more than returning home after yet another day of bullying at school. But despite his quiet personality, he was strong, and wouldn't let a few cruel individuals bring him down. He decided fairly early on that he wanted to join the Army and find himself a place where he could fight back in the right way.

He only had a handful of firm friends, those you could really count on to always back you up and never let you down. They were so important to him growing up, and although he wasn't able to spend much time with them these days, they were people he held very dear. Since joining the Army he now had a new group of friends to add to his Home-friends and he was so grateful for that. He would do anything to safeguard his section.

He had found himself really disappointed in the way he had treated Molly Dawes. She had needed a friend, someone to stick up for her and stand with her. Instead, he had gone along with the others, wanting to be seen as one of the lads when Smurf had slated her, even though he found what Smurf said about her difficult to believe. He had felt very uncomfortable about her treatment and hadn't joined in with it to any great extent, but he hadn't done anything about it, either.

When he was first introduced to her, before they left for Afghan, he had liked her. He reckoned she was probably a really great girl, although maybe she needed to learn when to make a joke and when not to. He'd been surprised how brave she was when she'd laughed at the Boss' use of his favourite nickname for them when they were lining up for their section photograph. He'd sat next to her on the plane over to Bastion. They had chatted easily together about where they were from and their reasons behind wanting to join the Army. He told her about the bullying he'd experienced as he was growing up and had been shocked to learn of the incredibly tough upbringing she had had, including when her Dad tried to sell her off to her ex-boyfriend over some dodgy dealing with a Russian building firm. She'd stuck up for herself and in return had been ostracised by her family for a time, something that he could not fathom.

He could see Molly had struggled to fit in with the group and he had felt sorry for her, particularly his part in the old "cut myself shaving" gag. Thinking about it again, he shouldn't have done that to her; she was having enough problems without him taking the piss as well. The Boss had been really hard on her as well, and he could understand why. He'd needed to make her understand that he was in charge and wouldn't be undermined.

In a way, Dawes - Molly - reminded him of his eldest sister, who was a couple of years older than him. She could be pretty brash and outspoken, but underneath she was caring, kind and loyal. She had always stuck up for him when the bullies picked on him at school, no matter what it cost her. Growing up, he'd always aspired to be like her, and felt proud she was his sister.

So today, when that mine exploded, he had felt really awful, shocked and gutted. He was barely aware of the stunned whisper of "Molly?" leaving his lips.

He had berated himself that he hadn't stopped Smurf wandering off on his own so many times that afternoon. Firstly when he had heard the gunshot earlier and come running up to the CP shouting "man down, man down". Then, again when Molly volunteered to go and get him, and again when she got blown up. If he had only stopped him walking off, they would have avoided all of this pain and Molly Dawes wouldn't be laying out there, dead or seriously-injured, in the middle of a minefield.

The relief he felt when she had started moving and told them "I'm alright, I'm alright" was overwhelming. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Then, she had just got up and gone on to treat Smurf. Just like that. Like nothing had happened. He decided there and then that from now on he would treat Molly Dawes with the complete respect she most definitely deserved and he promised himself that he would always make sure he was there for her, even if that meant going against the others.

When they got back to the FOB that evening and the Boss had finished reaming them out and left with Kinders, they had all looked at one another sheepishly. Fingers had piped up. As one of the oldest in the section, after Kinders and Smurf, he tended to be a bit more confident than the rest.

"Well, I think we can all admit we fucked up. Some more than others," and here he had the decency to look embarrassed, since he, Smurf and Dangleberries had been the ringleaders, "what can we do to make it better?"

Brains had suggested that they moved Molly's stuff into their tent to show that she was one of them and everyone had enthusiastically agreed to ask Kinders' permission later. Then they had drifted off to wind down and try and relax, conscious of the likelihood that it may be a while before Molly got back. Kinders had returned only 10 minutes later and had started drifting around, talking to everyone individually.

When he spoke to Adio he had confessed how bad he felt about not standing up for Molly, given his experiences growing up. Kinders had re-iterated that it was how he behaved from now on that mattered, now that he had the chance to make amends.

About 45 minutes later, after some of the ANA troops and 3 section had returned to the base, the Boss called them over and told them that Smurf was OK and that Molly was on her way back to the FOB. He had asked permission from Kinders to bring her stuff into their quarters and was thrilled when the Corporal had agreed to it.

They all chipped in to help get her stuff moved into the corner of their tent, and her face when she returned and saw the change more than made up for that effort, in his view. For a moment he thought she was going to cry, but then she had produced the sort of smile that would light up a rainy day. She had reminded him so much of his sister, Candace, at that moment, apart from the colour of her skin of course, and the fact that she looked like she'd been in the mother and father of all fights!

He thought that that smile showed once and for all that they'd been wrong about her. That _he'd_ been wrong for not standing up for her. That was not a mistake that he'd make again. Molly Dawes was part of his family now. Whether she liked it or not.


	11. Baz

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Baz Vegas**

As Ben Grayson relaxed in his seat in the mess tent that evening he was starting to feel normal for the first time since they had arrived in Afghanistan. It had been a bit of a culture shock for the boy from Basildon, if he was fair. The heat, the dust, the feeling of fear and insecurity when they were outside the base, and the really nasty atmosphere over the past few days when they were inside. But for the first time he felt that things were on the mend. And the reason was readily apparent as he listened to Molly tell Fingers exactly what she thought of his poncey football team, and the section laughing as he spluttered in disgust. Because Molly Dawes had brought them together.

There had always been divisions in the section. Oh, they all got on pretty well together, but Smurf, Fingers and Dangles were a tight group and everyone else had always been on the outside of that. But now with Smurf injured, and Fingers and Dangles realising that they'd acted really badly, those pre-tour walls were starting to come down and the section seemed somehow better for it. And it was Molly who had done that. Or rather the fact that Molly clearly wasn't anything like how Smurf had accused her of being.

Because people who didn't give a shit about anyone else and only wanted to sleep their way to the top didn't crawl across minefields to rescue wounded comrades. And they certainly didn't crawl across minefields to rescue wounded comrades that had spent the last day completely dissing them to all and sundry. When the mine had exploded and he'd found her with his scope he had been gutted to see her lying there, unmoving. He had been pleased in a way. He had expected her body to be broken, and he thought it would have been horrible to see that, but it hadn't been and he had dared to hope then that she might survive.

But she didn't just survive. When she sat up he was flabbergasted and when she said she was OK he was delighted, but then she'd just got on with the job like nothing had happened. Just like that. And she had saved Smurf's life and then she'd defied the Bossman again to go up in the winch.

When she had walked back into the tent that evening and they had all sung that she was one of the lads they had meant it for the first time. Then they had seen her. She looked terrible and she looked amazing at the same time. Her face was all cut up, presumably from the mine explosion, and she looked tired, but there was something in the way she stood that wasn't there before. And then he had realised; she had had doubts about whether she could cut it but now she knew she could.

It was normal to have doubts about whether you could cut it. He had had and continued to have them after all, but her job was so different to his. She had to do his job but also hers on top. She had to function and fight as part of the section, but she also had to step up if anyone was injured as well. And she had proved she could do that today. And showed them all who she truly was as well.

She had been really chuffed to see all her stuff in her new area in the corner of the tent. Her eyes had glistened and he thought that she might burst out crying. It was only then that he noticed her eyes were an amazing colour. A kind of grey green with brown flecks. She was a good looking girl and if he was inclined that way he might be interested. Certainly the smile that she shot everyone was really beautiful and it totally lit up her features. Her accent was really pronounced when she told them, "fanx." _She_ was thanking _them_? She had immediately gone over and dropped her helmet and weapon and shrugged off her medi Bergen and headset.

Brains had asked, "How come you've got another one of those Dawesy? We brought your one back."

To which she'd replied, "Well I wasn't sure if you prats would remember to bring it back and I can't save your sorry arses without equipment, can I?" she added, shrugging off her body armour, "Thanks for bringing it back though – this one's not worn in!"

She'd sat down on the bed facing them and lay back against the canvas wall as if savouring the situation. She closed her eyes, seeming to relax, uttered a deep sigh, and then opened them again to see them all still watching her.

"What's up with you lot? Ain'tcha ever seen a woman before?"

They looked at each other. Fingers was the only one with the balls to ask what they were all thinking. "Are you OK Dawesy?"

She looked at him steadily as though assessing his real level of concern and finally answered, "I've bin better, but it's nothin' a good night's sleep won't sort." Then, realising that they were all hanging on her words she asked, "Cor, is it time for dinner yet? I ain't 'alf starvin'!"

So here they all sat in the mess tent and for the first time in a while there was only good feeling in the section. The boys were taking the piss out of each other and laughing and joking and were going out of their way to include Molly in that. She was giving as good as she got and she was really good fun with a great sense of humour and the boys could all see that.

He knew that there would need to be some private conversations over the next few days which perhaps wouldn't be quite so fun but they all deserved that. They'd all decided that they'd speak to her separately. Some points needed to be cleared up and some apologies made. Some had behaved worse than others but they all knew they'd been in the wrong. Once they'd had those conversations, hopefully they could move on. One thing was clear; the section was better with Molly Dawes in it than without her. At least they'd learnt that.

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**A/N I assume from the Ep 1 post-production script that Baz Vegas is called that because he comes from Basildon, not anything to do with his name, so I picked a random one.**


	12. Jackie

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

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**Jackie**

The klaxon goes off to alert us that the MERT helicopter is a few minutes out and will be arriving soon. I pull on my plastic apron and gloves and make sure I've got all the equipment I will need close at hand.

I sometimes work on MERT, which is one of the most rewarding but stressful jobs in the armed forces. The 24 hours on/24 hours on standby is pretty crippling but the feeling of accomplishment when you take somebody's battered, broken body, which definitely wouldn't have survived in previous wars, and get them to the hospital alive, is fantastic. And I love the teamwork as well. There's only four of you; two paramedics, a nurse and a trauma doctor, and there are no ranks – just people who want to save lives

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed being a CMT on the front lines during my last tour. Well, maybe enjoyed is too strong a word. But it was rewarding. You're right at the forefront of the action and you can really make a difference between life and death. And it's great being part of a section. I'd trained with the lads all the way through and we were all deployed together, so it was great fun. Not like that poor girl Molly who just got dropped in at the last moment. I'm not surprised she found that tough. You've never met these guys before and the first time you get a chance to talk to them is on a plane flying into a warzone. I wonder what the Army's thinking sometimes.

I must say I was a bit disappointed with Captain James' behaviour. He was one of the company officers on my last tour. He wasn't my CO but I knew him and knew of him. He had a reputation for being a good officer who cared for his people. Well you just had to look at what happened with Geraint to know that. He risked his life to get his body. That was well above and beyond. We had quite heavy casualties on that tour – a few contacts and some IEDs as well. It was pretty unpleasant at times. The officers were great though and I know that Captain James was there for the men both during and after.

Which makes it strange to me that he was on Molly's case so heavily. There must have been better ways to tell her she was in the wrong quarters for instance, and that thing with the run after she'd been in the med centre the previous evening was a bit steep as well. And Molly told me about the speed dating comment as well. Not what you really expect from a good CO. He must have understood that it would be really difficult for her coming in cold.

Now, don't get me wrong, I can understand that Molly is a bit mouthy. I saw that with Smurf the other day, but still a little bit of support from her CO and section leader would be likely to make her feel more welcome and not under so much pressure. I'm not saying Captain James got it wrong. It's just not the way that I would have handled it.

Anyway, they've already deployed. I hope it gets better for Molly. She's a fun person. Hopefully they'll give her a chance to settle in and the tour will be good for her and her confidence.

The MERT helicopter's just landed and we get an update. It's time to focus, and eliminate any extraneous thoughts. I'm a class 1 CMT and in this role I will need to help in receipt and initial management of the patient(s). It takes a few minutes for the ambulances to get from the helicopter landing pad to the Role 3 hospital here at Bastion.

The Major comes over to brief us. "OK people, we've got two casualties incoming. One Cat A. Gunshot wound to the upper right thigh. Lost a lot of blood and has been transfused en route. The other passenger is the CMT. She's taken some damage from a mine explosion – mostly just cuts and bruises apparently but I want a full check in case there's anything we can't see." She assigns various people to each team. "Team A you will take the Cat A. Team B you will take the CMT. Let's GO!"

I'm part of Team B, the smaller of the two teams with only me and a nurse, while Team A consists primarily of surgeons and nursing staff. The CMT will be run through the CT scanner (after the Cat A) to make sure there's nothing that can't be seen and then, if she's OK, stitched up (by me) and discharged.

We receive the stretcher case and the MERT team have told us that the patient is stable so he's wheeled straight through to the CT scanner. Initially his face is obscured, but as he goes round the corner, I see his face. It's Smurf.

Shit! That means that the injured CMT is Molly!

Honestly, that girl doesn't seem to have any luck. I was just thinking of her a few minutes ago and hoping that she would settle in with her section, and now this!

As she comes through the door I can tell she isn't seriously injured. She's walking unsupported for starters, but she does look a bit dazed. She has been relieved of her weapon, helmet and equipment at the entrance. There's no place for weapons in a hospital and everyone has to leave them outside. She'll get them back when she leaves. She looks pretty shit though. She's covered in dust (all except the area on her torso which is normally covered by her body armour), her face is all cut up and there are a few holes in her utilities in the arms and legs. I immediately move into action, crossing over to her.

"Molly Dawes!" I tell her with a grin, "What are you like?!"

"Jacks!" she responds, sending a half smile back at me, obviously pleased to see a familiar face. She appears to be slightly in shock though, because apart from that she doesn't really say much and that's so NOT the Molly Dawes I've got to know over the past few days.

I fill in, explaining that we're going to send her through the CT scanner to make sure there are no injuries we can't see. She tries to protest and I cut her off at the knees. She's been medevacced and hence she's going to be treated. She tries to deny that, saying she was only on the chopper because she had to stay with the casualty to keep applying pressure to his groin. I'm not having any of that.

I tell her, "Mols, you've got to know you look like shit. You've just been caught up in a mine explosion. We've been ordered to treat you, and that's what we're going to do, whether you like it or not!" Medical personnel are always the worst patients and it's to be expected to some extent, but luckily Molly doesn't put up too much of a fight.

She gets a clean bill of health from the CT scan. There are a few small bits and pieces in her legs and arms which we need to extract and stitch up and we need to put some stitches in her face and neck but it only takes about 15-20 minutes. Molly wants to see Smurf, but there's no way they've finished operating yet. I help her to the waiting area outside the theatre. We make small talk. It's clear that Molly's a bit shocked, but when she gives herself the chance to think about it I reckon she will be pleased. She's passed her test. It's the sort of test all of us combat medics have to pass at one time or another. We have great training with some pretty realistic prosthetics but real life is not the same. It's different seeing fake blood to real blood. The smell is the major thing. Burnt skin smells minging and blood has this weird coppery smell. You don't get that in exercises.

About 10 minutes later Major Watts comes out of the operating theatre. She's taken off her plastic apron, so she's just wearing a T-shirt and combats, our normal dress for when we're not dealing with emergencies or giving treatment. She tells Molly, "You did well Dawes. He would have died if it wasn't for you." Molly gives her the sort of smile which would light up a rainy day and the Major cracks a smile as well, "Now go and have a shower and relax, and you can pull a new Bergen from stores."

Molly asks, "Ma'am, can I see him?" to which the Major replies, "He's in Recovery and will be unconscious for at least an hour." She smiles at Molly in a kindly way, "Go and have a shower and relax, then you can spend a few minutes with him before you go back to your unit."

Molly smiles back, "Thank you Ma'am." The Major nods and Molly nods back respectfully and heads off.

"Jackie!" the Major calls, and I look at her. There was something in her voice, but she continues more quietly, "Take good care of her. We just got an update from the MERT team. Apparently she crawled across a minefield to get to the casualty. She set off a mine but just got back up and went and treated him."

_WHAT?!_ I look at the Major incredulously. Did I speak out loud? I'm so shocked that I'm not sure. "Quite," says Major Watts, "She's likely to need a friendly face to talk to. Make sure you keep her busy while she's here." I nod at the Major sharply, her revelation wringing a formal "Yes, Ma'am," out of me (we aren't normally so formal at the hospital) and then I set off after Molly. She'll need some fresh clothes for after her shower since I'm sure all of hers are at the FOB so I take a detour via the quartermaster's department to get something, and then take it over to the shower block.

Molly is pretty grateful for the clean clothes. She was in the shower for 10 minutes, but I reckon she deserved it, and I lend her my deodorant as she finishes towelling her hair. She has long hair, longer than mine, and it tends to frizz in this climate. I learnt that the first time I was out here and made sure to cut it shorter for this deployment. Molly looks much better with clean clothes and her hair freshly-washed and re-braided, although with that face she still looks a bit like an axe murderer! We joke a bit about that, and then head back to the hospital.

As we get to Recovery they tell us that Smurf is close to regaining consciousness so Molly goes to see him while I go about finding transport for her back to the helipad. That done, I head back to tell Molly that her ride is nearly ready. They're talking when I go in, and Molly comes out a few minutes later. I decided to wait for her outside the ward and walk with her down to the entrance so I can help her get her kit on. While I'm doing that I tell her, "Try and take better care of yourself Mols. It would be great if the next time I see you you're not all cut up."

She grins at me and tells me, "I'll try Jacks. Thanks for helping me."

I tell her, "Don't let the boys piss you off Mols. If you need a friend you know where I am." We've finished putting her gear on by this time. She's a bit stiff, but apart from that she's remarkably well, considering what she's been through today.

She tells me, "Cheers Jacks. Take care of yourself as well." Then she turns and climbs gingerly into the truck for the drive to the helipad. I watch the truck 'til it turns the corner out of sight and then head back in to get the full story from Major Watts. She's head grape on the vine and should know what happened by now. What's clear is that you under-estimate Molly Dawes at your peril. I hope Captain James gets his head out of his arse and takes care of her now!

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**A/N 1 There are three levels of Combat Medical Technician (Molly and Jackie's job). You can have a look on the Army website or Wikipedia for the different standards, but Class 1 is the highest level of training for a CMT. I assumed that since Jackie had already done at least one tour she would be at least Class 2 and assumed for the purposes of this fic that she's a Class 1.**

**A/N 2 There are four roles of medical care in the NATO definition: Role 1 is point of injury care; Role 2 is basic primary care, ie in a unit aid station; Role 3 is hospitalisation with specialist surgical and diagnostic resources; Role 4 is definitive care of patients for whom treatment required is more involved than can be provided in theatre. The hospital at Camp Bastion was a Role 3 hospital and the Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham is Role 4.**


	13. Captain James

**Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.**

**Captain James**

It's Wednesday night and, as I lie in bed reflecting on the day, I think that I have never been more proud of one of my soldiers. It's been a tough road for Dawes and I over the past few days. I'm big enough and ugly enough to admit that she rubbed me up the wrong way right from the beginning but that I was wrong about her.

When soldiers join units they generally keep a low profile for the first little bit. Not Dawes. More importantly, when soldiers join units going into operational situations, you expect them to show a modicum of seriousness and focus. Again, not Dawes.

However, knowing her as I have begun to now I would have to say that she _is_ serious and she _is_ focused, even if she did not appear to be so at Brize and later on. I'm a bit embarrassed that I came down on her so hard, but the medic is such a key part of the platoon and I could not take the chance that she wasn't focused. My men's lives literally depend on her.

What I can say though is that I'm pleased I didn't wash her out.

My thoughts on Dawes started to change after that first patrol when she not only answered my question correctly, showing that she was focused in a patrol situation, but she also first flagged the issue with Smurf. For her to flag an issue with pretty much the only friendly face in the platoon from her point of view really took guts and I had an inkling then that maybe I was right to persevere with Private Dawes. Even if I didn't give any sign of that to her.

She has now paid me back for my faith in her, with interest.

I wish I could say that I'm proud of the rest of the section as well. But the truth is that I am very disappointed with them, with Kinders, and with Smurf in particular. I first realised that there may be an issue within the section yesterday afternoon when they all stood as far apart from Dawes as possible in the briefing. The atmosphere was very thick this morning and when I asked Dawes about it on the march up to the mountains she told me that they had sent her to Coventry because of what she told me about Smurf.

I finally got to the bottom of what had happened when I spoke to Kinders and some of the soldiers in the course of this afternoon and evening. I had to tell the boys I was very disappointed in their behaviour. Dawes was just doing her job when she told me of her concerns about Smurf and, given what happened today, it looks like she was bang on – he clearly wasn't in the right frame of mind. It turns out that when I bottled Smurf for his behaviour in unloading on that compound he took it out on Dawes, spreading vicious rumours about her and suggesting she was a slut who didn't follow the soldiers code and would shag her way to the best jobs.

To some extent I blame myself because I maybe shouldn't have told Smurf that it was Dawes that flagged the problem. Actually I certainly shouldn't have. If I had just said that I'd noticed it was an issue he'd never have twigged that she'd said anything to me. Anyway, you live and learn.

But I am very disappointed by the men. OK, so Smurf had an issue with Dawes. But there was no call for all of them to get on her back as well. They didn't know what had happened and, even if Smurf is a member of the section, Dawes is as well. They behaved like a bunch of five year olds and I don't expect that from soldiers. Certainly not from soldiers under my command. At the end of the day Dawes was the only one looking out for the whole section, they were ignoring her – that is unforgivable in my view.

One of the things I do worry about is that maybe I encouraged that sort of behaviour with my treatment of Dawes. By beasting her and being sarcastic with her I think I didn't set a good example. In my defence I wanted her to focus up and be professional and I was trying to push her into that, but the more I think about it, I behaved pretty badly as well. I don't think I should make any more of a fuss with the men beyond what I've already said because they could reasonably say that they were only following my example of treating her like a bit of a joke.

Dawes is an interesting person because when I've taken the opportunity to talk to her one on one she's not at all like how she appears to be in public. I increasingly think that the class clown persona may be a defence mechanism to disguise a lack of confidence, rather than evidence of how cocky she is. She does have belief in her skills, certainly as a medic. She told me after all, and my blisters certainly agree, that she's the nuts. And the doctors at Bastion definitely confirm that. Smurf would be dead now if it wasn't for those skills, after all.

But my discussions with her on the way up to the Mountain CP, and also when she came back to the base, show that she has the same insecurities as the rest of us. I should have remembered that. I don't think I can tell her how sorry I am for my behaviour towards her (I have to appear to be all knowing, after all) but I have vowed to behave better in future. As I heard Kinders telling the men, it is how we behave towards her from now on that matters.

I think it's fair to say that I, like the rest of the men, was blown away by her performance this afternoon. When she shouted me down in front of the men I had to admit to myself that maybe I had been trying to protect her because she is a girl. If that is the case then I will definitely need to eliminate my protective instincts because Dawes has definitely proved that she deserves to be treated as a soldier. Having said that, I wouldn't send anyone, medic or not, into a minefield without mine detection equipment unless it was an emergency. The fact was that it was. From the sounds of things Smurf would have died before a PEDRO or MERT chopper could make it, so I had to look at alternatives and Dawes offered the only one.

Luckily she was kind enough to wait until I'd reached that conclusion myself and gave the order. That was the last time she was willing to do that this afternoon! She certainly wasn't willing to when it came to going up in the winch, but at the end of the day should I have been surprised? Probably not. She made a decision about what was right for her patient and she stuck with it. Should I have given the order not to go up in the winch? Probably not. They always say – don't give orders you wouldn't obey yourself. If I was in her position I probably wouldn't obey that order either, but the fact is I _did_ give the order. And she still basically gave me the finger.

She was right, and she saved Smurf's life, so I let her off without a bollocking. I _was_ going to give her one but when she walked into the base and I could see her face covered with cuts and nicks it was more difficult, and then when she almost visibly braced herself and then came up to me I was even more unsure. When I started to give my speech and, instead of being defiant she looked down and apologised, I knew that I couldn't bollock her. So I gave her a way out and asked whether she'd heard me give the order not to go up in the winch. We both knew she had but chose to ignore it. And we both know why. I should never have given that order and we both know that too. I told her "Well done". She deserved that, and more. I've spoken to the Major and we're going to put her forward for a medal for what she did. It's the most amazing act of courage I've seen during my career, and I've seen a good few. The fact that she is under 20 years old, and on her first deployment adds to my admiration for her. We won't mention it in the citation, but the fact that she was still willing to risk her life for a man who had tried his best to screw her over certainly impressed me.

Dawes has hidden depths. Her mouth is her major weakness, but I think it's a defence mechanism and hopefully as she settles in it should become less prevalent. She seems to be more focused. Her fieldcraft seems to be fine and she is observant (she was the first to spot Smurf for instance). She is definitely an excellent medic – she saved Smurf's life after all. She has a great heart and I am agreeing now with her instructors; I think she has the potential to be a great soldier. But it will be hard work. Will I survive six months with her? Maybe. Will I survive six months with her without getting grey hair? Definitely not!

**A/N 1 Pedro is the US medevac solution, not quite the equivalent of the British MERT. It is totally different insofar as it consists of two choppers, normally Blackhawks, one of which is an armed support chopper and one of which is an unarmed chopper "protected" by the Red Cross. Pedro is staffed by paramedics and it does not carry doctors like MERT. However, it is more adaptable to conditions than MERT and the paramedics can abseil down to a casualty which comes in helpful in minefields and smaller landing areas. In the end it was Pedro which saved the British soldiers in the Kajaki dam incident.**

**A/N 2 I've heard a lot of people speculating about when the Captain starts falling for Molly and I wholly believe that he hasn't started to fall for her at this point. As of now he's starting to admire her as a soldier. Over time he starts to admire her as a person and that's when he starts falling for her. I think until then she's totally not on his radar from a romantic viewpoint at all. He's just trying to do his job. Just my view.**

**A/N 3 I'd like to thank everybody who has reviewed this story and everyone who's reviewed any of my stories.**


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